


rainy nights in the big city

by fyxxen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyxxen/pseuds/fyxxen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison owns a coffee shop, and when the skies open up on a Wednesday evening, Scott and Stiles take refuge in La Lune.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to my wonderful, beautiful beta, redweathertiger who was the one who turned me onto this OT3 (and tbh inspired this fic)

On a dark Wednesday evening, La Lune is surprisingly empty. For a small shop, it's usually bustling with people running in for a minute or two, grabbing a cup of coffee and flaky pastries. Allison likes to think even though their coffee isn't the best, the sense of comfort La Lune manages to inspire keeps people coming back. When she first got to the city, all she wanted to find was a coffee shop she could become a regular in, some semblance of home. It never quite worked out that way, so when she stumbled upon an empty storefront, tucked in a small side street near NYU, she scraped up the last bits of her inheritance and splurged. She didn't have enough money to hire any help, and just barely manages to handle the morning and mid-day rushes, but La Lune is a piece of good, a piece of something that's hers in the city.

There are a few hours until closing, but with a middling rumble, the sky opens. Allison sighs as rain begins to slap the front window. No one else is likely to come in with this weather, she thinks... Until a few minutes later the door slams open, upsetting the bell above it. A lanky man stands dripping on the welcome mat. The lights flicker with a flash of lightning, making him smile.

"Heyyyy Ally, sorry for flooding the store. I had to run the last few blocks." He squeezed out the sleeve of his hoodie with disgust. Stiles Stilinski, recent transplant to the Big Apple, had been coming into La Lune a few times a week for a couple of months. Him and Allison clicked fairly quickly, neither of them being from the city or wanting to talk about where they came before. When the store was quieter, Allison would sit and read as he worked on his laptop and tapped out nervous beats with his feet.

Sighing and pointing him towards the back round, Allison shook her head, "C'mon, doofus, towel yourself off in the kitchen. You can hide out here till the rain lets up."

Almost as soon as Stiles passes through the swinging door back to the kitchen, the lights flicker again and the rain starts coming down even harder. Crossing her fingers and scrunching her nose, Allison sends a small prayer up to the universe for the rain to actually let up soon and not to flood her out of customers for the rest of the day.

When the bell above the door tinkles again, she almost sends up a silent thanks to the universe before she realizes the man who walked in probably wouldn’t be paying for anything.

Scott McCall, beautiful, sunshine-filled Scott McCall was currently dripping onto the puddle Stiles had left moments before, looking like a drowned puppy with a lot of piercings. In his arms was may have once been a stack of term papers, but was now sopping, mostly mush. 

“Al, I think my professor is going to kill me. These are late and now they’re just really one pile of mush and this was supposed to be an easy way to pass the time. TA-ing for first years. Intro to Communication… Deaton lied—“ he went silent as Stiles came back from the kitchen, humming under his breath.

Allison watches the way Scott’s eyes track the way Stiles’ shirt clings to his stomach, drags up with each swipe of the towel over his hair, trying to get some semblance of dry.

She notes in it the back of her mind, in the offhand sort of way like you do at sleepovers when you’re in middle school when one girl is dared to kiss another and you wish she had been dared to kiss you but you can’t admit that. She notes the way a light blush crawls up Stiles’ neck, following the scrollwork of ink starting below his sternum and curling up behind his ears, up his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose, once he realizes Scott is watching him.

Stomach full of butterflies, and skin feeling too tight, Allison schools her face and is about to offer the boys something warm to drink, anything to dissipate the tension in the air, but the lights flicker once more and go out with a particularly well-timed boom of thunder, leaving the three of them in dramatic darkness.

“Well, Scott, meet Stiles. Stiles, Scott.”

There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, interrupted by the clash of a body hitting one of the chairs against the bar then clattering to the ground, followed by a groan.

“Guess there goes my attempt at saying hello like a normal person,” Scott curses as he presumably throws the stack of once term papers aside. Allison slips a lighter out of her back pocket to light the tea candles she brought out for this very reason. They’re not good for much other than ambiance, but they add some light to the café, more than the occasional flash of lightning does.

+++++++

They end up pulling all the cushions off the plush chairs that line the walls at Stiles’ suggestion, “I’ve always wanted to make a pillow fort in a thunderstorm. It seems so cinematic.”

It gets to what would be closing time, and the rain isn’t letting up at all. In fact, it seems to have gotten worse with the street outside of La Lune almost a river, the debris of everyday life rushing past the darkened windows.

“I have some blankets in the back. You guys are welcome to stay here for the night. It’s no five star hotel, but it’ll be warm enough in here, and we already have… basically a nest. We’ve made a nest,” Allison giggles, her dimple piercings glinting with a flash of lightning. At Stiles and Scott’s assenting nods, she disappears into the back.

“So how long have you known Allison?” Stiles turns towards Scott, pillowing his head on his bent arm tapping out a random beat with the fingers of his free hand on his thigh.

Propping himself up onto his forearms, Scott tilts his head in thought, “Since the first day of classes I think? I got so lost looking for this little bookshop that’s meant to be somewhere around here, and ended up stumbling in here…” if there had been more light than the tea candles offered, the shy smile sneaking onto Scott’s face would have been bright as day, “and I’m finishing up my junior year now, so. A while now.”

Before Scott can return the question to Stiles, Allison stumbles through the swinging door from the back of the store, arms full of mismatched blankets. She tosses them on top of the boys before they can ask why she has so many blankets in the back of her coffee shop. 

Scott and Stiles slip off their jeans and wrap themselves in the blankets, turning the pillow “fort” into even more of a nest, Allison draws the curtains on the front window and locks the door, worry gnawing at the back of her mind— what was all this rain going to do to sales tomorrow? La Lune did okay, but she couldn’t handle more than a few days of slow sales and still hope to make rent on the shop.

Shaking her head, she pulls her hair back in a loose braid before slipping her own jeans off and squirming her way into the space between Scott and Stiles. She throws her arm low around Stiles’ hips and manhandled him into a better position to be used as a pillow, making a content noise. It didn’t take long for Scott to get with the program, curling against her back. The three of them drifted off to the pattering of rain against the front windows, interspersed by the softening rumble of thunder and infrequent crack of lightning.

+++++++

Allison wakes first to light sneaking through cracks in the front curtain. She stifles a yawn and wriggles out of the octopus hold the two boys had on her. Stiles had frowned, but not woken up when she had finally gotten out, but the frown quickly smoothed out when Scott pulled him closer in his sleep.

She slips her jeans back on, and piles her hair onto the top of her head in a messy bun as she gets about to making some coffee for the three of them. The smell and clattering of the espresso machine gets Scott and Stiles sitting upright, blinking at the daylight. They’re still huddled close when Allison pads over with steaming cups of morning goodness filled to the brim.

When it’s time to open the shop and everyone is wearing pants again and the chairs are back in order, Allison kisses both boys on the cheek, one hand wrapped around Scott’s bicep, the other on the underside of Stiles’ wrist. For whatever reason, it’s that that finally makes her blush.

Stiles is about to walk out the door when he whips back towards Scott and Allison, “Wait, no. I’m not just walking away. This was… really nice? And I kinda— no, I really want to do this again. I mean, if you’re interested? I could make dinner.”

Scott looks conflicted, gaze darting between Allison and Stiles, “I mean, I don’t want to intrude…”

“No, no, I’d like you both to be there. If that’s something you’d be okay… if you’re interested? If you wanted, I mean, that’d be okay. That’d be perfect.”

Allison dimples, “I’d love that. If Scott, I mean… If you were okay with that? Stiles is a really good cook,” she giggles, winking “he makes a mean breakfast too.”

Scott looks at both of them, his face surprisingly unreadable, until he breaks out into a small smile, “I would love to.”

As Scott walks down the street with two new numbers on his phone, and his lips burning with the memory of chaste coffee kisses, he thanks the universe for the day that he got lost and wandered into La Lune.


	2. the dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott, Stiles, and Allison get together for dinner and drinks.
> 
> Oh, and for sex.

Stiles spends all day cleaning his apartment, only to toss pillows and blankets around once the place looks pristine. He doesn’t want to make it look like he was trying too hard. Plus, Allison has seen it in much worse shape.

This seems more important though.

Allison changes four times before settling on an outfit. Black panties and bra, extra straps allowing for tantalizing windows of skin, but still easy to remove. Nothing too frilly. Black button-up, the top buttons left open and sleeves rolled up to showcase the script on her left forearm. Broken in, faded black, almost grey jeans with dark purple flats. She braids her bangs away from her face but leaves the rest of her hair down. She notices the faint blush high on her cheeks as she flashes a smile to the mirror by her door on the way out.

Scott… Well, Scott spent his time getting ready. He wore his date night jeans, the ones his mom picked out, which may have been weird, but it had been his birthday and a number of margaritas had been involved. A maroon henley that had always seemed to make Allison seem to flirt with him more. He even picked up a nice bottle of red wine on his way there! (He wasn’t sure what the proper gift was to bring to dinner and maybe your first threesome). Unluckily for him, though, the skies opened once more and only then did he discover his umbrella was broken.

So, Allison and Stiles opened the door once more to a dripping Scott. His date-night outfit was cast aside in favor for some old sweats of Stiles’, along with the undershirt that was only slightly dampened from the downpour.

+++++++ 

Dinner passed fairly quickly— Allison was right, Stiles was an amazing cook. They had chicken and rice with some vegetables, as well as a few bottles of wine. The smile Stiles gave Scott when he handed over the bottle of red lit a small fire at the pit of Scott’s stomach.  
“So I hope I’m not being too forward, but my mother, the nurse, would kill me if we didn’t have this conversation. I just wanted to say that, uh. I’ve been tested recently, and everything came back negative,” Scott said as he watched Stiles turn to get wine glasses. 

Allison’s pinky curled around his own in response, making the fire spread over his entire body.

She smiled at him, “I really appreciate you bringing it up. I got tested after the last time Stiles and I hooked up— all negative on this side too.”

Stiles slinked over to the two of them, “I'm liking you more and more, Scotty,” he grins broadly at Scott’s shyer smile, “I was a peer sex educator for my first few years of college, and got to lecture people all the time about being tested and having this conversation. Anyways, yeah, all my tests came back negative.” 

He pours them generous glasses of dark red wine. They all can’t help but smile into their glasses as they take their first sips.

+++++++ 

It’s still raining when they move into the living room to finish off the wine. Stiles laughs when they settle on the couch, not quite touching yet.

“Stormy weather usually foreshadows something bad happening, you guys know that, right?”

Scott immediately shakes his head, squeezing one of Stiles’ hands with his own, looking painfully earnest, “No, no. It can be a good sign! Like, nothing can grow without a little rain. We’re just getting…. More than just a little.”

Allison can’t help but giggle, “plus it’s kinda cozy. And we already have good memories about the rain, right?”

Scott’s hand is stroking the tender skin on the underside of Stiles’ wrist as Allison’s hand slides from where it had been on his knee, up to his inner thigh with a soft squeeze. 

Her hand doesn’t move, and neither does Stiles, until Scott is rapidly nodding his head and croaking out a “yes” to Allison’s, “is this okay?” After that time seems to speed up. If you were to ask Scott how the wine glass left his hand and managed to be put safely on the coffee table in front of them, he would have no idea. He would, however, be able to tell you what heaven felt like.

(Like four warm hands pulling him close, pushing him away only far enough to help him slip out of his clothes, like soft lips against the column of his throat whispering praise.)

Allison is down to her panties and a sock, Stiles down to purple boxer briefs (Allison snorts out, “Hawkeye,” and promises that Scott has some movies and comic books ahead of him when he looks confused), and Scott has sweatpants that are valiantly hanging on to his hips, to everyone’s disappointment before Stiles calls everything to a halt. 

“Not that I’m not really enjoying myself, but can we move this to the bedroom? One, big bed. Two, if the universe decides to give us a repeat performance what with the losing electricity and all, we have an incredibly large number of candles at our disposal in there.”

Scott is pushing Stiles in the direction of his room before he even starts listing off his well thought out reasons, much to his chagrin, “oh, a bossy one, I see how it is,” though Allison helps keep Stiles focused on the task at hand by ditching the remaining sock and her panties to crawl up on the bed before the boys.

If Stiles had been paying less attention to lighting the candles on his windowsill, he probably would have laughed at Scott, who was frozen at the foot of the bed at the sight of Allison sprawled across the sheets, touching herself. If there was one thing Stiles had learned, it was that keeping Allison Argent waiting didn’t work.

Sometime during dinner, she had piled the rest of her loose hair into a bun on the top of her head. Not only did that showcase her lovely shoulders and neck, but saved her the pain of continuously moving her hair out of the way. She was therefore able to drag her nails lightly down her chest from her collarbone down to one of her nipples, pinching and rolling it slightly. With her other hand, she slipped her fingers between her legs to tease at her clit. She was already soaking wet, but loved nothing more than a good tease.

Allison almost groaned at the feeling of Scott’s hand wrapped loosely around her ankle, barely touching her. She locks eyes with Scott when she hears his groan, his eyes quickly fluttering shut at one of Stiles’ hands working its way down his pants.

Stiles had lost his Hawkeye briefs at some point, so his erection presses freely at the curve of Scott’s ass as his mouth works its way down from the curve of Scott’s crooked jaw to the junction of his shoulder, leaving if not one, multiple would-be hickies in his wake. 

Allison is happy to keep warming up on her own; watching Stiles tease Scott with biting kisses and slowly work at his cock. She’s never been one to workout without warming up first, after all. She also knows that the lube in the bedside table would be helpful for the boys. But she’s just hit her stride and can feel the muscles in her stomach tighten, and the tingling in her toes that makes her arch her back with the promise of an orgasm.

Of course, then, that’s when Stiles looks up to stop kissing and sucking on Scott’s neck long enough to smirk in Allison’s direction. He couldn’t move up to the bed quickly enough to give her a hand, but he could give her an eyeful by pushing Scott’s borrowed sweats down the rest of the way, after whispering in Scott’s ear a rather graphic plan of what he thought they should do next.

The sight of Scott groaning in assent while his erection bobbed up after being freed, framed by his dark pubic hair makes Allison bite her lip and groan, head hitting the pillow, “you asshole, I was so close.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” Stiles laughs.

He crowds Scott closer to the bed until Scott has no choice but to climb on or fall over onto Allison. She makes the choice easier on him by grabbing one of his hands and guiding it to her clit and pulling him into a kiss that starts off startlingly sweet. When he starts to move his fingers in a circle before making a circuit down to slip a finger between her folds, the kiss becomes more insistent and wet with Allison’s tongue slipping between his lips.

Allison gasps moments later in part because Scott curls another finger into her, and flips them around so that she’s almost sitting on his stomach, her arms curled around his biceps to make sure he doesn’t stop as he hits a steady rhythm.

Stiles places the condoms and lube he grabbed from the drawer on top of the bedside table and straddles Scott’s thighs, their erections brushing against each other, against Allison’s ass as she thrusts herself onto Scott’s fingers.

He reaches around Allison, one hand going to play with one of her nipples, causing her head to loll back onto his shoulder, the other going to wrap gently around the base of Scott’s neck, their eye contact striking a nerve straight to his cock. Stiles bites Allison’s earlobe before whispering into her ear, “I have an idea, darling, but you’re going to have to move a bit.”

Allison groans in possible disagreement, but lets Stiles and Scott’s hands guide her where they want her to be. When she realizes they want her to sit on Scott’s face, she whole-heartedly agrees. Scott’s first lick between her folds makes her breathlessly laugh, “okay, you had a good idea, I’ll admit it.”

Stiles laughs as Scott’s hands wrap around Allison’s thighs to bring her as close as possible. He grabs a condom and slips it onto Scott, wasting no time before settling between his legs. Stiles licks his lips and thanks the universe for thunderstorms before sucking the tip of Scott’s cock between his lips, getting a feel for its weight and girth. He hears a muffled groan from between Allison’s thighs and gives his best crooked smile around Scott’s dick.

Alternating between his lubed hand and wet-hot suction, Stiles enjoys the sounds he elicits out of Scott, distracting him from giving his full attention to Allison, even with Scott as determined as he is to get Allison off.

With a combination of his skilled lips between her legs and his talented fingers leaving what will eventually be delicious bruises on the outside of her thighs, Scott brings Allison to a muffled cry of an orgasm just before Stiles brings Scott to his own.

Allison slides off Scott looking contented as Stiles pops obscenely off of Scott, looking smug. She pulls Stiles into a steamy kiss, trying to wipe away the taste of latex and lube from his mouth before Scott guides him up the bed until he’s nearly sitting on Scott’s shoulders.

“Are you sure? It’s a little different than eating out Ali,” Stiles asks as Scott reaches over to grab another condom to slide onto Stiles. Scott winks in reply before wrapping his lips around Stiles’ cock and sucking with the perfect amount of pressure.

Stiles loses track of Allison until he feels her chin hooked around his shoulder and her voice rasp into his ear “I’m gonna prep you if that’s okay cutie?”

When Stiles says “whatever you want, Ali,” he rolls his eyes back into his head, on his way to overwhelmingly happy, he hears the snap of a latex glove and feels Allison sneak a lubed finger between his cheeks, her lips on the back of his neck, and a slight stretching sensation.

Before he knows it, Stiles is thrusting carefully between Allison’s fingers and Scott’s mouth, lost in ecstasy. He nearly whines at the loss of Allison’s fingers before Scott removes slides his mouth away and carefully flips them. 

Scott finally removes the old condom, tying it off and trading Allison for a new one. Once he’s slipped the new one on, he guides himself into Stiles’ hole, kissing him all the while with the slightest hint of teeth. Allison’s sigh of approval as she returns from presumably disposing of the old condom reminds them to move.

Allison crawls back onto the bed whispering how beautiful they look together, how she had wondered for weeks how they would all fit together in bed, and when she leans over to kiss Scott, she leans up high enough to sling a leg over Stiles letting him fit his mouth around one nipple and slide a hand between her thighs.

Tangled together, Stiles and Scott manage to get Allison to come again with a cry that could realistically be either of their names, with Stiles coming shortly after. Scott obviously has no option other than to come so hard he can do nothing but hold on to Stiles and Allison.

Somehow, Stiles manages to slide off of Scott, taking both of their condoms to be tied off and tossed into the garbage. He returns shortly with damp washcloths, wiping himself, Scott and Allison clean before tossing them into the corner of the room. 

By the time Allison, Scott, and Stiles curl up, most of the candles have guttered out. Allison wakes up after dozing off for what was maybe twenty minutes to the sound of rain and the last candle burning itself out. She grabs a folded blanket from the end of the bed, and pulls it up to over the octopus tangle of limbs her and the boys have formed. She falls back asleep to the sound of rain and the steady breathing of Scott and Stiles, their arms wrapped around each other.


End file.
